Sequel of Welcome to Wool's Orphanage
by forTheLoveOfHades
Summary: As the title says, it's the sequel to Welcome to Wool's Orphanage. After Harry's and Tom's departure from the orphanage, how will they survive? Who will they meet and what is in their future? Harry should have known better than go gallivanting around the Wizarding World, especially with Tom! (No romance). Reviews are much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**This story is a rough version of where the sequel will be going. I haven't hammered down all the details but if you guys like the direction of this, then I'll continue on this. It's going to be written in a different way than _Welcome to Wool's Orphanage. _Read on and enjoy!**  


The Sequel to Welcome to Wool's Orphanage

_Harry lounged on the sofa, the book _Quidditch through the Ages_, the older unabridged version that is, on his lap. He watched the white ceiling above, trying to count the cracks in it, his leg thumping the sofa in rhythm to a random beat in his head. _

_"Studying?" a voice interrupted from his right without any warning. _

_"Gah!" he jumped. He recovered quickly and smoothed his robes, trying his best to seem unruffled. Beside him, he saw Tom, smirking at him smugly, an eyebrow raised._

_ "If you want to know, I was reflecting on the things that I've studied," he replied haughtily._

_"Like that is going to fool me, Wood," came the slick reply. Tom shoved his feet off the sofa and dropped into the seat, reaching for his book. Before Harry could react, Tom was already holding the book above his reach with his other hand. "I am taller than you, Wood. So you are not getting this back, until you recite me the Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."_

_"Just wait a few years Riddle, and then we'll see who is taller," retorted Harry. Sadly for him, now, Tom was a good foot and a half taller than Harry, much to his consternation. Harry's growth spurt had not yet kicked in, even that he was just fifteen years old. Tom, still fourteen as his birthday was in December, looked like he was sixteen, with his sharp, prominent bone structure, haughty attitude and greater height. Harry cursed his horrible short genes and the embarrassing incident incurred by it. A pretty barmaid had once asked him if he was Tom's kid brother. Tom being the worst friend, that he was, replied, yes, he is just thirteen years old, and then they spent the next hour talking about the woes of taking care of younger siblings, Tom using his usual charm and at the end got her to let them eat there for free. Harry sulked in his seat the entire time, which, unbeknownst to him, made him look even more like a kid. At the end, he resolved to get back at Tom for the insult, which had resulted in an impromptu prank war which is a whole different story that would take too long to even write in here._

_Harry shook his head, clearing out the memories. "We were not even supposed to study Gamps Law until next week!" defended Harry, still trying to climb over Tom to reach his book. Tom took the opportunity to jump behind the sofa, still holding the book out of reach. _

_"It's called initiative, Wood," he replied smoothly. "Considering the poor curriculum at Hogwarts, the only way one actually learns something is of one does it by them-self. So, I'm doing you a favour. If you want the book, you have to recite to me without looking, at least the three major ones." _

_Harry huffed in annoyance. It was Christmas holidays. The least the Tom could do was at least pretend to enjoy free time, but no, that would be too much to ask, wouldn't it? The least that Harry could hope for was that Tom would at least remember to get him and Abe Christmas presents that did not involve more books. Having Tom Riddle as an adopted brother of sorts would make anyone groan at the sight of more books. But Harry guessed, having Albus Dumbledore for a brother would have rendered Aberforth immune to bookishness especially considering that he was not one the best terms with his brother. Maybe that was why Aberforth had adopted them. To show that he was nothing like Albus._

**Longest Flashback One Has Ever Seen**

Harry and Tom had been living on the streets for almost two weeks now. Harry had gone straight to Ollivanders, hoping there would be someone who could help Tom and him. But Ollivander had acted like he had never seen Harry before in his life. He behaved nothing like the creepy man that he had met the last time, but more like the frail man Harry had rescued from Malfoy Manor. He acted completely human. Harry couldn't even decipher if he really did not remember or if he was just faking due to Tom's presence outside the store. So, they were stuck outside, left to skulking in the alleyways and hoping that the Aurors or the Police would not catch them. Of course, they weren't allowed to sully Diagon Alley with their dirty little selves,(Quote by some rich pompous prick), so to Harry's horror, they were forced to go around Knockturn Alley and other shady wizarding areas nearby that Harry had only come for Auror raids in his older lifetime. Their only source of food were the dustbins, tidbits that people gave them due to their wide eyed, innocent, starved orphan children look, (Which was mostly Tom, as Harry looked constipated when he tried to look innocent. He was horrible at charming people) and other food that they lifted off stores –which reminded Harry of his camping trip, hunting Horcruxes. This was rather ironic as this time, he was doing it with the person who's Horcruxes he had hunted. Harry was nearly reaching the end of his patience as running around with nothing but your clothes in the form of a nine year old, with another, potentially evil nine-year old for company was very different from hiding in forest with a tent, wands and a very capable witch who could make disgusting mushrooms edible. But who was he to talk. He had known that this would happen if he ran away from the orphanage. But it was better than going to jail.

Thankfully they had not yet run into the police but that didn't mean that the streets did not have their own form of danger. As they were walking in one of the more shadier parts of an alley, they accidentally bumped into a group of rich-looking teenagers, wearing expensive robes and holding posh canes came across them. All of them looked like wannabe Malfoys, except for the darker hair. "Watch it, mudblood," the tallest one hissed, shoving Tom with his cane. Tom, living on the streets of the Wizarding World, perfectly understood the connotations of the word and opened his mouth for a scathing retort.

"Stay away from him," came Harry's voice before Tom could reply.

They stopped in front of them, the tallest one cocking his head to the side. "There are two of you!" he laughed. "How quaint, two little mudbloods."

"Hurrah, you can count," replied Tom back, snarkily.

"Shut up! Filthy little hooligans, who think that they can dirty our streets with your likes," bit in another one, scornfully.

"What do you think we should do with them, men?" asked a boy with mousy brown hair, turning back to the other teenage boys.

"I think they should be taught to respect their betters," replied the tall one. "After all, now I have to wash myself considering that I am tainted with the Mudblood's filth." He made a show of brushing down his robes in disgust.

Now Harry wasn't stupid. Okay, maybe he had done a few stupid things like mock Dudley without a wand, go after the Philisopher's Stone, chased a Basilisk without adult supervision, go back in time and show himself to his past self which would have resulted in a horrible paradoxical issues (Thank Merlin that he was half blind without his glasses and thought he was his father), do stupid foolhardy things for the three tasks in the Triwizard Tournament, mouth off to Umbridge despite McGonagall's explicit warning and ran off into a trap when Hermione told him that it could be a trap, and made judgements about others based on their houses and...okay, more than a few stupid things. But he knew that provoking a group of wand-happy, hormonal teenagers with blood-purity issues was definitely not a good idea. But he was after all a Gryffindor at heart, meaning that he always leaped before he thought. So he opened his big mouth and said, "I would say a bath is long overdue considering that you look like you haven't touched water for at least a week based on the greasiness of your hair." He wrinkled his nose to make the point as Tom closed his eyes and sighed at Harry's utter idiocy.

The boy snarled and whipped out his wand in anger. The end result was a tangle of limbs as Tom and Harry dodged, ducked, bit and scratched, while the teenagers fired off various hexes, hitting their own comrades most of the time. They were lacking in skill but they made up for that in numbers. Harry fell back into his old Auror-fighting mode, letting his instincts take care of the threat and before he knew it, all the teenagers were down, some sprouting various limbs and tentacles, while other groaned and puffed out different colours. He looked down his hand to see his wand. His wand! It was back. His own sweet wand was back! Was this what Ollivander had said when he said it would appear when he needed it most? His delirious happiness didn't stop him from seeing Tom look at him in suspicion and shock.

"Where did you get that?" Tom asked, his voice suspicious. "And how did you know how to use it?"

Harry knew he couldn't tell him the truth. No one knew that he was a time-traveller and he was not going to admit to Tom that he had lied. He would lose all trust from Tom and he couldn't have that. He had become reliant on Tom, as an only friend. He was the only person in this world that Harry was familiar with.

"I took it off one of them," he made up, pointing to one of more unfortunate ones with boils on his face and tentacles for his hair. " And I just whipped it around hoping it would work, which I guess it did." Thank Merlin for non-verbal spells.

Amazingly, Tom seemed appeased. '_He actually bought that story?'_ thought Harry incredulously. Either Harry was getting better at lying, or Tom had some other motive to not press the issue. Harry hoped it was the first one.

"Good idea, I should take one as well," continued Tom. _Or it was the second one. _

Harry hid a grimace. Tom Riddle with a wand? Before the age of 11? This could only end badly.

They tried to pick a good one that seemed to like Tom, belonging to the tallest boy, who lay on the ground grimacing in pain and glaring at them, Tom stood up and examined it.

"It feels weird. Tingly," said Tom, looking at the object in his arm in awe. His eyes held a slightly glazed look as he beheld the wand.

"Stealing another's wand is crime of the highest degree, boys," came a voice from the end of the alleyway. The voice held a gruff undertone, and seemed impossibly familiar to Harry.

Tom jumped in surprise, his eyes losing the glazed look, almost dropping the wand. Harry looked up to see a pair of familiar blue eyes with a piercing gaze looking onto him. Harry recognized these eyes. Even if the face surrounding them was different with brown hair and a small goatee, robes that looked like they had seen better times, and a bag of...something, in his right hand, Harry was sure that he was currently looking at the younger version of Aberforth Dumbledore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lily F. Lux: Last chapter's_ Aberforth's goatee_ was intended to be ironic, based on his affiliation with goats. Good call on catching that!**

**hentai18ancilla: Yes, I totally agree. It is very hypocritical. But keep in mind that if someone with authority actually saw them, the teens would be arrested for harassment.**

**Chapter Two**

Of all the people that he could have run into, Harry was just thankful that it wasn't the elder Dumbledore. He wasn't ready to face him, or sort out the myriad of feelings about him that Harry had buried in a deep corner of his mind. He also wasn't ready to present Tom in a way that would alleviate suspicion and hopefully get the future Headmaster to regard Tom like any other student. Tom was still too Dark-Lordish, in his opinion, and Harry would hate to have the progress that they made all go to waste with suspicion following Tom's footsteps for seven years. But this Dumbledore was much better. After all, didn't he run one of the most suspicious pubs in Hogsmeade?

"They attacked us, sir," replied Tom in his most accommodating, innocent tone. "We were forced to defend ourselves."

Harry nodded in synchrony with the story. Aberforth, though, the entire time, only looked at Harry. His eyes piercing Harry's so deeply, that if he wasn't sure that Aberforth was pants at Legilimency, would have moved his eyes elsewhere.

"I heard them, boys. That is why I won't be calling for the authorities. Yet." Aberforth looked at both of them once over. "I live just near here. You boys look like you need a good meal. If you join me for lunch, I'll let you explain yourselves about what just happened."

Harry was suspicious. Why was Aberforth asking some random street kids, who he clearly saw knock down a set of teenagers with wands, with absolutely nothing to their name, eat lunch with him? His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Aberforth usually wasn't the generous type. Then what was he upto? Well, the only way to find out was to follow him.

Harry began to move forward when his shirt was pulled back by Tom. "What do you think you are doing?" he hissed to Harry in a low whisper. "We don't even know him or what he wants. He just wanted to give us to the authorities. I don't trust him."

Of course, Tom had no idea who Aberforth was, did he? But Harry knew that Aberforth, who was acting differently now, was still a good man. He wouldn't hurt them. Hopefully.

"Don't worry," he appeased Tom. "After the lunch, we can just sneak off."

Tom looked at him shrewdly, then nodded once.

Aberforth looked pleased. "However, you might want to leave the wands behind. They are not yours after all."

Tom grimaced and dropped the wand he picked, with difficulty. Harry on the other hand was panicking. This was his own wand! He hadn't stolen from the teenagers. But his story to Tom would look false and suspicious if he suddenly said he had not taken the wand from them. So with a great more difficulty, he pried open his fingers wrapped around his beloved wand and let it drop. The sound of the wand hitting the ground felt like a fissure going through his heart.

"Come," instructed Aberforth. As Harry and Tom exited the alleyway, Aberforth went to the group of tangled, multi-limbed teenagers and waved his wand in various patterns above them restoring them to their normal selves. In the midst of them, Harry saw the wand movement for Obliviate too. _That was...nice of Aberforth,_ was his thought as he took in the sight of the teenagers and the alleyway that looked as if it had never seen a fight.

Tom stood there, fascinated by the workings of Aberforth's wand, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

"Come," repeated Aberforth and led them away from the alley before the teens could come to.

Both of them meekly followed Aberforth to a small, shady looking pub hidden in a corner of the street with a dingy sign that was not legible due to dust, rust and other things that Harry didn't want to think about.

Aberforth pointed towards the door. "This is the inn at which I am staying. We can get lunch here."

Soon both of them had forgotten their scruples about Aberforth and were animatedly telling him about the bullying teens and the prejudice they had to encounter. Tom was playing up the injured, innocent boy who had, of course, no idea that they would end up that way, and milking the attention of the bartender and other (suspicious and hooded, but who was Harry to judge?) people in the pub, who were now listening to the young boy for all he was worth. Harry, not to be outdone, decided that sympathy was a good thing when one lived on the streets, helped Tom embellish the details, until the entire pub was hanging onto their every word. Harry mused that if Tom did not become a Dark Lord, he had a grand career in acting. At the end of their narration, all the people, hags and vampires (at least that's what he looked like) and other miscellaneous creature alike, were looking at the two brave young boys who were misjudged and withheld of their right to wander the street.

Aberforth, during their recounting, never took his eyes off Harry, a strange gleam entering his blue eyes at odd times. Harry resolved to keep an eye out for what Aberforth was up to because he was acting very peculiarly.

Their lunch, curtsey of Aberforth was filling and tasted alright. But then, anything would taste fine to two boys living on the streets as long as it was edible.

Soon, Tom asked to go to the loo and the helpful, adoring crowd that he had gathered, almost escorted him to the door. Harry and Aberforth were left alone in their corner in relative silence. They stared at each other, the suspicious gleam in Aberforth's eyes coming back at full force.

"It was an interesting story," remarked the younger Dumbledore.

"It's what happened," replied Harry. Aberforth kept staring at him. "Do I have something on my face?" he asked rather harshly as he was getting tired of whatever was wrong with this younger version of Aberforth.

Aberforth took out his wand and cast a non-verbal silencing charm around them.

"You know, people tend to think that I am not like my genius brother, but I still see a lot of things," he began. "For instance, what that young friend of yours missed was the spells that I saw you casting with that wand. No child, especially one who is not even of school age, is capable of nearly perfect wand movements to the Jelly-Lock Jinx, the Tantellegra or the Rictusempra, not to say casting them without words. Of course, no child of even first year would know what I'm talking about, but that's not you, is it?" He waited patiently for Harry's reply.

Harry's mouth was open in a very unflattering position. "Wha-what do you mean? I have no idea what you are talking about." His face was rapidly turning red and he was watching out the peripherals of his eyes to see if Tom had yet returned from the loo.

"No, he is not here yet. So, he doesn't know, does he? So tell me, how exactly can you cast non-verbal spells when you should not even be holding a wand? My first guess would have been polyjuice, but you have been sitting here for an hour and not taken any drinks other than water. You don't act like a nine-year old either. For that matter, neither does your friend, so I guess it was your environment. But your actions tend to belie a greater understanding of how others perceive you and the way you chose your words clearly gives a lot of consideration towards how they are going to be received, especially to your much more taller friend."

Harry was paying careful attention to all Aberforth was saying, that is until he implied that Harry was short. "Hey, who do you think you are calling me shorter. Tom is freakishly tall for his age. All nine year olds are supposed to be my height."He crossed his arms, an unknown pout on his lips as he fumed inwards at the injustice to which he was regarded as. Him, Short? He would show them in a few years when his growth spurt kicked in. Then see who was calling him short.

"Alright, I rescind my statement," said Aberforth, putting his hands up in a universal calm-down-gesture. "You are clearly not an adult. I can believe that you are nothing more than a kid. A five-year old one at that."

"What do you mean?" screeched Harry, his voice going into un-charted squeaky territories. Curse his young, unbroken voice! He sounded like the a mouse! "Of course I'm an adul-eep!" He covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes popping out in shock at his own stupidity. He didn't just say that, did he?

Aberforth smiled, a very nasty, evil looking smile. One of the hags and vampires came up and stood behind Aberforth like sentinels. Very sinister looking sentinels who looked like they were hungry. Aberforth kept on smiling. A smile that Harry would only have associated with how Voldemort would have reacted to Harry's torture and subsequent death. As disturbing as it was, it strangely enough suited his face perfectly. Who would have thought? A Dumbledore with an evil smile. He was clearly going off in tangents due to panic. He was beginning to hyperventilate. Oh Merlin, he was going to die, wasn't he? He hadn't even had a chance to influence young Tom fully, and now Tom would still become a Dark Lord and kill everyone he loved and never remember him and..and...HE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE! He was too young, he was only _nine _for Merlin's sake! He hadn't even a chance to see Hogwarts yet, and now that evil looking hag, (who had a few moments ago, been one of the adoring crowd and escorted Tom to the loo) was licking her lips in a very obvious fashion. And Aberforth was _still smiling_!

His inner weeping and hyperventilation was interrupted by this EVIL DUMBLEDORE. "Do go on. Don't stop. You were clearly getting to the good part."

He had to get a grip on himself. It wouldn't do to break down and show how helpless he was, without a wand or enough strength to even lift the small table alone, to a group of predators. He had to think like an Auror. Analyse and dissect the situation and come up with the best solution that will not end up with _him DEAD or GRIVIOUSLY INJURED_!

"I'll go on, but I'm not talking in front of them or right now. Tom could come in at any moment," he replied calmly, not revealing the turbulence taking place in his mind.

"_Tom," _emphasized Aberforth, "is currently focused on nothing but his stomach pain, which will disappear, of course, in an hour. That is how Stomach-Clearing Potion works. You on the other hand, now have one hour to explain to me exactly who you are." So, apparently Aberforth had drugged Tom.

Harry gulped.

Aberforth nodded at the hag and vampire, and they left to their seats. No one in the pub even flicked a look in their direction. Aberforth took out his wand and did some more complicated motions. "There, we are now sitting in full privacy and Not-Notice-Me charms. So, go on." He made a go on motion with his hand.

Harry was stuck. He had no wand, no money and no Tom. If he wanted to get out of this alive, there was only one thing to do.

"I'm a time-traveller."

**Dun dun dunnnnn... He confesses for the first time! So any guesses as to how Aberforth will react? **

** I know Aberforth seems bit different, but that how I think Aberforth might have been when he was much younger. (consorting with shady people and going to shady bars. But shady might not always mean evil!) After all, he must have gotten his inspiration to run Hog's Head from somewhere, right?**

**And yes, I know that I'm totally evil for ending it there!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Long Chapter, have fun!**

**Chapter 3**

There was utter silence around them. The Aberforth burst out laughing. "Time-Traveller! Ha, I thought you were going to make up something completely incredulous, and you made up something even worse! You do know that _even if_ you were a time-traveller, no matter what time you come from, you retain your own body. Now, unless you took a shrinking solution, which is toxic in large quantities for humans, you are a really a nine-year old boy, which according to your rambles, is not true. So, I'll give you one more chance. Who are you?"

Harry was beginning to feel rather desperate. "I have no idea how I travelled through time. All I know is that one day I was sleeping on my couch and then next, I woke up in Tom's orphanage in a child's body."

He chanted his favorite mantra inside his head. _Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't think about panicking. Don't think about why you don't think about panicking. Just...Don't panic._

Aberforth looked incredulous, still, so he continued. "I don't think that it's me who did this. Because, I went to Ollivanders one day, and _he seemed to know exactly who I was and how I came here._ Then when I went there again, a week ago, he remembered nothing of our conversation. It was like it never happened. I can assure you. I have much less idea of what is happening that you probably do."

Aberforth began to look slightly more convinced. "Tell me, why should I believe you?"

Harry wracked his head for something. "I know many things about your life that you yourself told me in the future. Many personal things that you never told anyone."

Aberforth narrowed his eyes. "And why would I talk with you about my personal things if I have never revealed it to another person. What made you so special? What did I tell you exactly?"

"I don't know why you chose to confide in me. You liked me, I guess." He decided to take the leap. He had only one hour to convince Aberforth and half of it was already gone. "You told me...you told me about Ariana, your sister and how she died."

There was no reaction from Aberforth. Not even a twitch, which made Harry decidedly nervous, but he decided to continue onwards.

"You said that she always liked you best and you could quiet her tantrums better than anybody else. Then in the duel with Gridelwald and your brother, she died, and no one knew who cast the curse that killed her."

Suddenly Aberforth lunged forward and pinned Harry in his seat, his wand pointing between Harry's eyes. "I let you talk for this long. I let you babble utter nonsense. I should have known. You are in league with him, aren't you? With amazing Albus' best friend, that pathetic Grindelwald!" roared Aberforth, spit splaying all over Harry's face.

"No!" shouted Harry over Aberforth's din. "I swear that I spoke the truth. I swear. Really." The wand pointing between his eyes were quite distracting. It was very smooth and made of a dark coloured wood. He wondered what the core was. He never got around to asking Aberforth in the future. Okay, he was clearly panicking now, That was when his own mind tried to distract him.

"Fine," replied Aberforth tersely. "I'll believe you if you take an Unbreakable Vow."

Harry gulped. The words spoken in the Vow had to be very specific. If they misspoke and he accidentally broke it, he would be dead. But it didn't seem like he could get Aberforth to believe him if he didn't take it.

Harry held out his hand gingerly Aberforth took it, his eyes widening and betraying their surprise.

"We need a Bonder, so I'm going to ask my friend, the bartender to do it. If whatever is revealed is a problem, then I shall erase his memory."

Harry nodded as Aberforth waved the curious bartender over and explained the general idea of what he had to do.

"Do you so swear that you are not in league with Gellert Grindelwald, in no shape, way or form?"

"I do." A blue line of light encircled their wrist. Aberforth looked a little appeased.

"Do you, so swear that you have received the information you told me _from me_?"

"And your brother," added Harry. He didn't want to lose his life on a technicality. The older Dumbledore had explained most of is when he had once died, as well as Aberforth. He didn't count Rita Skeeter's book as that was too superfluous and what she wrote was not entirely accurate.

"- and Albus Dumbledore," added Aberforth, eyes narrowing a little.

"I do." Another stream of light encircled their wrist.

"Then, do you so swear all you have told me about your travelling through time is true and that you are indeed from the future, and you have come here, unaware of what happened?"

"I do." A last colourful light wound around their wrist, sealing the Vow.

Aberforth looked at him, satisfied. The bartender on the other hand was gaping like a fish. So he flicked his wand, muttering_ Obliviate_ and sent the man back on his way.

They sat in silence, neither willing to break it. Aberforth, because he was digesting this news, and Harry, because he was holding his breath to see Aberforth's reaction.

"...So it was true."

"I know it was true," replied Harry.

"You do know that what happened to you has to be impossible, right?" Aberforth leaned forward, balancing his sharp face on his hands, his eyes taking on a curious gleam. "You are an anomaly."

Harry squirmed a little in his seat. Here he was again, being regarded as different. "After being introduced to the Wizarding World, I have realized that the impossible is not a limit for magic."

"You speak like you are much older- wait, how old are you?"

"I will turn 26 this August."

"How many years did you travel? What year exactly did you come from?

Harry licked his lips nervously. He wasn't sure that he should reveal that to Aberforth. It seemed like it could be dangerous. But, Aberforth was waiting, and he really didn't want to lie to a friend that knew about his time-travels. This had _nothing_ to do with the fact that he was unarmed, tiny, surrounded by creepy people and Aberforth could easily catch him in a lie.

"I came from the year 2006."

"Well...wow..." Aberforth seemed to have run out of words. "That's a long way off." He swallowed, as if it would make this news easier. "And you say that you know me then? But how? You would be nearly a 100 years younger than me?"

"Things...-bad things happened during those times and lots of people who normally would never meet, came together. That is how I met you."

"Then can I ask why my brother, as well as me, chose to confide in a child nearly 100 years younger? I know brother. He likes to keep his secrets. I know that he never even told me everything."

Harry really couldn't answer that yet. To do so would open a whole new can of worms and there was not yet enough time to recount the whole story before Tom came back. So he shook his head. "I will tell you, but certainly not now, and not here. Another day, when we have time and are alone, I can tell you the entire story, but not now. Sorry."

Aberforth looked around him, a little shocked, as if he had forgotten that they were sitting in a public place.

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot about that. Another time then. But we will have to talk." Aberforth bent his head slightly and looked at him in a way that was very reminiscent of his brother.

Harry nodded quickly.

"But, can you at least tell me, why you, a time-traveller, was wandering around the streets with another kid, and picking fights with pure-blood teens?"

Harry decided that there was no harm in doing that, so with a little edition, and skipping over some details, (about how he knew really knew Tom), he explained the basic story of their life in the orphanage and their subsequent escapade.

Aberforth was chuckling as he ended. "You haven't even stayed here a month, and you have already caused quite a lot of trouble. So, if I get this right, you and Tom are currently, penniless, homeless and wandless."

Harry nodded, though he winced at wandless. "You know, that wand was actually mine. I really didn't have to drop it there. Ollivander had given it to me, the last time I was in there."

He suddenly turned around to see Tom exiting the loo, gingerly ribbing his stomach, a slight grimace on his face.

As soon as Tom entered his field of vision, Aberforth brought forth his wand and dissipated the Notice-Me-Not charm and other spells surrounding them. They both sat as if they had discussed nothing more interesting than the weather.

"I don't think that the food agreed with me," said Tom, his hand still over his tummy, as if he was scared that it would fall if he took his hands off.

"Harry here was just telling me about what happened to you boys," started Aberforth. "He just told me what happened at the orphanage."

Tom shot a glance at Harry incredulously, his eyes conveying the consequences of giving up their secrets to a random stranger.

"I told him that we have nowhere to go and no one to go to," added Harry nervously, before Tom could jump to conclusions.

"Yes," confirmed Aberforth. "So, I was thinking of offering you jobs for a small salary, as you are currently jobless."

Harry turned to Aberforth in shock. They hadn't discussed this. Where was he going with this? He took a gulp out of the glass of water in front of him.

"You see," continued Aberforth. "I'm thinking of opening a small restaurant specifically for couples, and I might need helpers. If you boys are fine with this, I'm willing to pay you a small salary for running errands for me. The place that I have staked out even has a few small rooms above, so the both of you can live there, until you go to Hogwarts."

Harry nearly spit out the water. Hogshead started out as a restaurant for couples? Like Madam Puddifoots? It was so unlikely that Harry had trouble to imagine the shady, unclean pub covered with pink, frilly laces and little hearts in the ceiling. Ugh, bad memories!

Aberforth gave a question look at his reaction.

Stiil, this, he did not see coming. Aberforth had just offered them a job, and shelter not knowing them for more than one hour. Well, the Unbreakable Vow must have helped some. But still...

Tom started protesting politely, even though his eyes took on a familiar calculating gleam. "We can't impose one you...we-"

"It's nothing," Aberforth cut him off. "I have need of helpers and you have need of some place to stay. So this is a mutually beneficial deal, yes?"

Tom exchanged a glance with Harry, as Harry shrugged in reply. He trusted Aberforth, no matter the time period or how odd he was acting. The man had a good heart. Hopefully.

"Thank you, thank you so much, good sir," stammered out Tom, his good manners coming out. "We don't know how to repay you."

"As I said," started Aberforth. "It's nothing special. I would have had to choose someone to help me anyway, so I thought I would give you a chance. Don't let me down now!"

"Of course not!" replied Tom fervently.

Harry nodded ardently. This offer was beyond anything that he had planned. Okay, so technically he did not have anything planned for the near future other than _don't starve to death_. But sheesh! A man had to prioritize, alright!

"Where are you opening your restaurant, sir?" asked Tom, interrupting his inner tirade.

"it's in a little village called Hogsmeade. You might have heard of it."

Harry put on a confused face for Tom's sake as Tom shook his head. The three of them began heading down the street away from the inn. The hag waved merrily to Tom, blushing as he left, causing Harry's face to turn a little green. Bad images!

"Oh, don't mind her," said Aberforth, as he saw the colour of Harry's face. "She's a little strange. But, yes, Hogmeade is a Wizarding Village next to Hogwarts. You do know what Hogwarts is, don't you?"

Both of them nodded. It was nearly impossible to walk in the Wizarding World for a week and not hear about Hogwarts.

"Yes," continued Abe. "We will be reaching there via floo. You do-"

"Yes, we've used floo before," cut in Harry, tiredly. His legs were aching and he, unlike Tom, just went through a very straining interrogation a few minutes ago.

Aberforth raised an eyebrow imperiously. "You should watch your tone, boy. I'm doing you a good deed here." His voice was stern, but there was a small twinkle in his eyes, like his brother, which belied his true mood.

Harry huffed noisily. He couldn't even talk back like an adult when Tom was there, because he had to act like a child. "Sorry, sir," he apologized at a vicious look from Tom.

Come, we'll take the floo from here."

Soon, after a disorienting trip through the floo, they reached Three Broomsticks. Strangely enough, it looked exactly the same as it always did, minus the good-looking Madam Rosmerta. Instead a dry, wrinkled old man was sitting at the bar, who nodded as they passed by.

Outside, near where Hogshead once stood, rested a small building, which looked the epitome of good architecture, quite unlike its future counterpart. How this had become into a dodgy inn, Harry could only guess. This building looked clean and wonderful and actually like a possible restaurant. Tom carefully evaluated the building with critical eyes.

As Harry took a step towards that building, Aberforth stopped him. "That's not it." He turned him around.

" This is," he declared, spreading his arms wide to showcase the other building on the opposite side of the street.

Harry nearly snorted out loud.

In front on them stood a dilapidated shack, worthy of the dodgy inn that Hogshead would one day become.

"Welcome to the Lover's Den."

If Harry had something in his mouth, he probably would have spit it out in shock.


End file.
